Farradyne shook his head. "Who, me?" he asked.
"You. I'm in the market. If they're in good shape, we can make a deal."
Farradyne felt that this was as good a time to play cagey as any. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"No? I hardly think you are telling the truth."
Farradyne grinned broadly. "So I'm a liar?"
"I wouldn't say that."
"Look, Brenner, I don't know you from Adam's off ox. From somewhere, you have the idea that I am a runner and you want to get into the act. In the first place I am not a runner and in the second place you have about as much chance of getting into a closed racket with that open-faced act of yours as you have of filling a warehouse with heroin by asking the local cops where to buy it."
Brenner smiled. "I can see you're cagey," he said. "I don't blame you. In fact, I'd not have come out here asking like an open-faced fool if I hadn't been completely out of stock. I'm a bit desperate." He went into an inside pocket and came out with an envelope. "This is a credential or two," he said, "so that when you return this way, we can maybe do business. The usual way, you know. No questions, or witnesses. Okay?"
"I'll be back—maybe, Mr.—er, Brenner."
"You get the idea."